


Familiarity

by aiIenzo



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-26
Updated: 2013-09-26
Packaged: 2017-12-27 16:48:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/981281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aiIenzo/pseuds/aiIenzo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So when Gavin is breathing sadly into the phone, his resolve shaken and mustered and shaken again, and asks for Michael’s help, is was never a possibility that he could say no.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Familiarity

Michael hadn’t meant to stumble upon it. They were all used to sharing stories about women when they drank, and Gavin’s were always the most subdued. The most that were mainly about the adventure, and less of the destination, but Michael always thought maybe he was shy.

So when 2:12 AM was flashing on the clock from the static lights of his TV, and a thoroughly drunken Gavin admitted to Michael that he was a virgin, everything fell into place. It didn’t make sense, not by a long shot, but pieces of Gavin that were hidden from him before were suddenly shot into the spotlight, and _ah_ was really the only thing Michael could think. 

And the next few days after that weren’t awkward, and Gavin’s cheeks only flushed a little when Michael made a sex joke, but in the still silence of a phone call late at night, Michael’s perspective on Gavin changed.

See, he had known Gavin needed comfort. Craved it. To have someone close to him, a soothing gesture, was only to make up for Gavin’s crippling sense of self-worth and confidence. That had been Gavin’s first admittance, years ago, when Michael had finally confronted him about their proximity during podcasts. He needed comfort, connection, or he’d puke at the thought of being on camera. Still, Gavin had apologized ruthlessly to the point of making guilt bubble in Michael’s stomach, and Michael stopped him. He had understood, and complied.

So when Gavin is breathing sadly into the phone, his resolve shaken and mustered and shaken again, and asks for Michael’s help, is was never a possibility that he could say no.

—-

The plan was simple. Michael knew first hand that Gavin’s confidence was directly correlated to the amount of alcohol you put in him, so it seemed likely to reason that if he liquored Gavin up, he could get any girl he aimed for.

It would work like a dream. Gavin would lose his virginity and maybe gain some pride, and Michael would have a subject to relentlessly tease him on in the future.

When Michael explained it, Gavin said that he’d do his best. Michael called him a pussy and sucker punched him.

—-

They traveled out of their usual comfort zone in Austin to avoid meeting anyone from work, and they both had good feelings, even if Gavin had to fake his.

Gavin stuck to his side throughout the night, and only when Michael had bought him his fifth whiskey did he even attempt to make eye contact with someone. Michael was torn between Gavin’s need for baby steps, and his own frustration at Gavin’s lack of advances.

"Look, that girl in the third booth. She’s a redhead, you like that, right?"

"I…yeah."

Gavin looked. They were making progress.

"Go talk to her. Her friend just left for the bathroom or something."

The lights reflecting on the bar were mirrored on Gavin’s face, and Michael took in his friend’s expression with a sinking heart. He looked terrified. Mortified. His eyes were weak and he was chewing his bottom lip. Michael changed tactics. Again.

"Just…go talk to her. You’re funny. Just lie or something, ask her if maybe you guys have seen each other around somewhere—"

"—Michael, I don’t want to lie…"

"Okay. Scratch that. Sorry. Just… say anything, Gavin. Introduce yourself. I don’t really think it’ll matter what you say, girls will be going crazy for that accent."

Gavin ran a hand through his hair, and gave Michael a nervous look, a twinged smile.

"You think so?"

Michael grinned at him. “Trust me. That accent is hot.”

A true smile. Thank god. “Yeah, alright. Don’t watch me, okay?”

Michael choked on his drink, but tried to hide it for Gavin’s sake. “Yeah, alright buddy. I won’t watch,” but he couldn’t keep the smile out of his voice, and Gavin’s hands were shaking as he pushed himself away from the bar.

—-

At Gavin’s request, they try a different bar a few nights later. The redhead had gone well. Exceedingly well, actually, and Michael had been able to piss off 45 whole minutes talking to the guy at the bar next to him before Gavin was back, hammered and smiling.

He hadn’t went for the kill.

Michael marveled at the fact that Gavin was able to speak to a girl for nearly an hour at a bar, and never try to take her home. Dumbfounded, he asked what went wrong. Nothing. Why didn’t he make a move? Gavin shrugged. It hadn’t felt right.

Michael had a few choice words for Gavin. Sometimes, Michael even like to use his hands to speak for him, and Gavin sported a rather large bruise on his arm for the next several days.

This time, though, this time would be different. They would wait until someone really caught Gavin’s eye, someone Gavin couldn’t avoid.

Three hours in it finally happened, and Gavin was was so smashed at this point it was surprising he was even able to stand up to walk over to her, but it was worth it. Michael had seen the way Gavin looked at her in his inebriated state, lust and desire and drunken decisions, and as he watched from a table in the corner, he smiled. This was the girl, surely.

Gavin was suave, Michael would give him that. From the way he moved and the way he smiled, you’d never be able to fathom that he was the most inexperienced motherfucker Michael had ever met. He watched as Gavin leaned in to whisper to the girl, then some time later, as Gavin’s hand found it’s way to the small of her back. He was doing good. By the time she was running her fingers across Gavin’s arm, her heels enabling her to lean forward and whisper something in his ear, Michael was already considering his mission to be a success.

He drained his drink. Put the glass down. And there was Gavin, at his side _again_.

"What? Gavin, what’s wrong?"

Come on, let’s go, please.”

There was panic in his eyes as he anxiously pulled and tugged at Michael’s arm. Michael, bewildered, allowed himself to be pulled off the table, through the crowd, out of the doors, and down the street, brisk air hitting him like a slap in the face. Gavin ignored his protests until he deemed they were far enough away.

"Gavin. What the _fuck_.”

"She asked me to go home with her."

Michael, breathing a bit heavily from the unexpected exercise, stared at him. No. He didn’t say that.

"Then why the fuck are we out here?"

"Michael," Gavin whined, and it was desperate. "Michael, I don’t _know_ her.”

It was so _fucking_ desperate and terrified and pathetic that Michael felt his heart break, just a little. He couldn’t even be mad. A silence fell around them, and Michael finally began to understand that if it would have been this easy, Gavin wouldn’t have needed help.

"Can I stay with you again tonight, Michael?"

"Yeah."

—-

He watched a Gavin slept peacefully on his couch, curled up, his leg dangling uselessly off the side of the cushions.

Michael bent down and studied him, took in his face that was scrunched up a bit from dreaming, and tried to understand. It had hurt him a little deeper than he liked to admit when Gavin had cowered against him earlier that night, desperately afraid to even go home with someone he didn’t know. But despite Michael’s desire to help, he wasn’t sure he knew how.

And honestly, the thought of Gavin leaving the bar with a stranger terrified him a bit as well.

He bent down and brushed the hair off of Gavin’s face before leaving to his bedroom, trying to rid his mind of the uncomfortable shifting in his stomach when he thought of Gavin leaving his side to bone some girl.

Michael would just miss the company, really.

—-

Maybe the bar scene was the wrong scene. Maybe Gavin needed a little something closer to home.

So Michael tried GameStop. A pretty girl worked there, a sweet smile and a soft voice, shy, but determined. A female Gavin. They began going there almost every day, picking up games for employees or wasting time on lunchbreaks. Sometimes she was there, sometimes she wasn’t, but eventually she began to notice them as much as Michael hoped Gavin would notice her.

With Michael’s encouragement, and memorized words on Gavin’s part, the flirting began. A bit awkward at first, undecipherable from casual questions and safeguarded jokes. But bit by bit Gavin grew more secure, and finally, they left the store 3 weeks later, a new contact added to his cell.

"That was harder than it should have been," Gavin muttered, his cheeks a bit red as they crossed the street.

"Well you got it in the end, didn’t you? Did you just muster up your last bit of courage, or what?"

"Well… sort of." Gavin is still clutching his phone tightly in one hand, and his voice is a bit quieter. “I kind of had to pretend I was talking to you.”

Michael wondered briefly if that should have shaken him, but he spots a convenience store on his left and his mind is instantly clouded out by his hunger.

"Whatever works, I guess. Hey let’s get some red bulls and burritos before we head back."

—-

It’s four days later, and Gavin’s phone is buzzing on his desk. It’s a message, Michael can tell, and he prays it’s the GameStop girl.

Gavin ignores it.

Ten minutes pass. Ten more. Fifteen.

"Gavin, I think you got a text."

Gavin doesn’t look away from his edit.

"Yeah."

Lunch, and Gavin leaves his phone on his desk. They come back, he checks it, then casually tosses it to the side again. Michael is holding in his questions, trying to respect Gavin’s privacy, trying to convince himself that Gavin’s commitment issues aren’t going to fuel his own rage. 

Finally, after another two hours of conversation and editing, during both of which Gavin ignores whatever that message is, and whoever it could be from, Michael snaps.

"Gavin, you’re ignoring her, aren’t you?"

"What?"

Michael pulls his headphones off completely and gestures to Gavin’s phone.

"That girl, I know she’s writing you. Why are you ignoring her?"

Gavin, for his sake, at least tries to look ashamed. His fingers start doing that thing he does when he gets nervous, and Michael notices immediately.

"I just… she’s been talking to me all the time. I don’t have anything else to say."

Michael sighs and rubs his eyes. “Gavin… you’ve got to take a chance, and stop making up excuses. You talk to me all day, every day, and you can _still_ find stupid shit to say to me every few _minutes_.”

"You’re different, though."

And Gavin is turned away from him, and Geoff makes an uncomfortable movement that barely registers in Michael’s brain, but all he can think of is how none of this is working out like he’d planned. He can’t tell if Gavin is failing him, or he’s failing Gavin, and it takes him the rest of the day and halfway through the night, when he’s up taking a piss at 4 in the morning, to realize what Gavin had actually said.

His dreams were strange, but he doesn’t remember them.

—-

"Maybe it’s not even worth it, you know."

"What’s not worth it?"

They’re at Michael’s house, sorting through a box. His parents had shipped him all his old Playstation games, and they were trying to sort them alphabetically on a shelf next to his TV. Gavin seemed slightly forlorn, but whatever had been on his mind wasn’t disruptive enough to cry for Michael’s attention.

"Sex. I mean…yeah."

Michael looks up at him, studying him. “Are you retarded?”

"Well!"

Michael shoves a few more games onto the shelf, trying to line them up against the backboard. “You _are_ retarded. I thought this whole time it was just an act.”

Gavin is surrounded by a pile of discs that were missing cases, trying to place each one into a blank holder and mark it respectively.

"I’m just saying, if I don’t have any basis of comparison and I don’t really know what I’m missing, then maybe all this trouble of getting laid is a waste of time. I mean, I was happy before."

Michael smiles, because despite how stupid Gavin is (unbelievably stupid, he swears), there’s an innocence to him that’s endearing, and Michael’s brain suddenly starts playing Aladdin’s _I Can Show You the World_ in his head. He hates himself but his smile grows. 

"When you do get laid Gavin, you’re going to run up to me crying and thanking me for helping you experience a very memorable night."

Gavin snorts. “If it ever happens.”

"It will. You’ll find her."

"I hope she’s like you," Gavin replies, throwing a broken case into the garbage can next to him as Michael’s heart skips a beat.

And if Gavin had known that the warmth pooling in Michael’s stomach was because of him, maybe he would have even blushed harder than Michael had.

—-

Gavin goes home that night, and suddenly the house feels empty. Michael had never noticed. He was so used to Gavin crashed on his couch, Gavin running around on the weekends after they get back from the pool, sliding on the tile and busting his ass, that the quiet was deafening.

It made him think.

And the next day when he goes into work, and Gavin’s there to greet him with that perfect fucking smile, he feels his stomach flip.

And suddenly, he wasn’t just confused as to why Gavin didn’t go home with that girl. He was glad.

—-

They try again, half-heartedly.

Gavin attempts to talk to a girl, but she can tell he’s not interested, and he’s not even upset when she leaves.

Honestly, neither is Michael.

They walk home together, hammered, and Gavin sighs.

"I wish you were just a girl. Then maybe all of this would be easier."

Michael doesn’t respond, he doesn’t know how to, so instead he slides his arm around Gavin’s waist and pulls him in close, and it’s intimate, a little too intimate. But when Gavin’s head comes to rest against Michael’s shoulder, he decides he likes it.

He stays at Michael’s house again.

—-

They keep going to bars, but Michael doesn’t point out women anymore.

They drink too much beer and talk too loud and Gavin is at Michael’s apartment every night. It’s not strange.

And when Gavin sighs and leans back against Michael’s chest to bury his face in Michael’s neck, drunk and Xbox controller in hand, Michael decides that’s not so strange either.

—-

"Gavin. I need snacks."

"Get them yourself."

"Gaaavviiiii—"

"Okay! Alright, before you get mental…."

Michael smiles as Gavin lifts himself from his chair and throws the door open a little ungraciously, leaving only Geoff and Michael in the office.

"So, still trying to get him laid?"

Michael turned to face Geoff, trying to look curious and shocked, but he already knew that if there was anything Gavin wasn’t able to do, it was keep secrets, especially from Geoff.

"He told you, huh?"

"Of course he did."

Geoff is looking at him, traces of his last hangover still bagged in his eyes, and Michael can only wonder at the percentage of his life that he’s actually been sober. The dreariness is making it hard for Michael to read him though, and he’s poising himself for either a lecture or advice, neither of which Michael really wants to hear.

"Well, are you still trying, or no?"

Michael propped his feet up on Ray’s chair, avoiding Geoff’s soul-searching stare. “No, not really.”

"Hmm. I wonder why."

It’s said with such implications and knowing and teasing, that his foot slips from the chair. And Michael swallows, because despite whatever Geoff meant, Michael’s brain immediately clicked to the last few brushes of inappropriate feelings he’s had for Gavin, and he looks back to Geoff, hoping, suddenly, for advice. But Geoff has turned around.

And when Gavin comes back and bangs his knee on the desk, Michael calls him an idiot a bit louder than necessary, just for good measure.

—-

He sees it coming, they all have, with her coy touches and smiles and little gifts and treats and pictures. The quick moves she makes to secure the seat next to Gavin. The tweets to him that are just a bit too flirty.

Barbara has got it bad.

And when Gavin comes up and tells Michael that she invited him over to her place that night, Michael realizes that she had finally built up enough courage to make her move. And he should be happy, really, because Gavin will finally bone someone tonight, but there’s something worming it’s way through his insides, a discomfort that settles deep. And he has a sudden, striking image of Gavin in Barbara’s bed, naked, mouth against hers that sends that discomfort into a raging emotion. 

"No."

"—I… No? No what?"

Gavin is curious, his eyes searching Michael as he waits for an answer. Michael doesn’t have a lie. He can’t decide if he wishes he did.

"No, don’t go tonight. She’s just trying to sleep with you."

It seemed to surprise him, but that was it. He wasn’t upset. He wasn’t disappointed. He wasn’t _excited_.

"Isn’t that what we’re trying to get accomplished, though?"

It feels like the thought of Barbara is slapping him repeatedly in the back of his head, knocking back his cognitive process each time he gets close to having a reason. With her stupid hair and her pretty face and—

"I just. I don’t like it."

"You don’t like her?"

"Do _you?_ ”

It was a bit harsh, but Michael couldn’t think. Gavin didn’t answer.

"I’m sorry. I… you just deserve someone better. For your first time, at least."

Gavin is still, and Michael can almost see the wheels turning in his head, but the words he finally breaths out are something Michael couldn’t have expected.

"Oh. Do I?"

And it’s so innocent, so sweet and pure and trusting that Michael has his hand against Gavin’s neck, his thumb running the soft stubble on his cheek, before he had even registered himself moving. Gavin doesn’t pull away, doesn’t react, just watches Michael closely, waiting.

"You need someone that you trust."

And there’s a flash between them, two looks that coincide, two thoughts that were reflected in the other’s eyes, but both of them remained silent. Both of them know, and both of them see the understanding, the revelation, the horrible, crashing bombshell.

Michael knows all too well that he’s the only person Gavin trusts.

—-

They don’t mention it.

Gavin stops sleeping on the couch, and starts sleeping in Michael’s bed.

They don’t mention that, either.

—-

Barbara knows Michael is the wrench in her plans, and she shoots him dirty looks whenever they’re close enough. Michael, only slightly threatened, makes sure to pull Gavin close whenever she does, slipping fingers through beltloops or running his fingers across Gavin’s skin. It’s a bit hysterical, and more than a bit beyond normal comfort levels, but Gavin never flinches.

And Michael starts to catch himself doing it when Barbara’s not around, wanting to feel Gavin’s skin underneath his, needing to feel the heat from Gavin’s body warm his own.

The thought of stopping never occurs to him.

—-

It’s Friday night, and they’ve moved the employees from their offices, to Michael’s apartment, with the required entry fee being a bottle of the bringers choice.

Michael feels like it was a good trade as he watches Gavin move from room to room, person to person, the bottle in his hand getting lighter and lighter as the night progresses. Gavin’s comfortable here, with people he loves. But even as Michael sits on the couch and fucks around in Dead Rising with Ray, every few minutes Gavin’s behind him, whispering things to him, giggles, messing with his hair. He even got brave and planted a kiss on the back of Michael’s neck, which sent chills through Michael’s body that he couldn’t ignore.

It’s only 9 when Barbara shows up, and Michael feels a twinge in his heart when Gavin welcomes her by picking her up with a spin. They nearly fall, and she laughs. Of course she does.

You’d fucking love it, wouldn’t you, Barb.

Michael shakes himself. It’s stupid.

But the night goes on, and their inhibitions fade. Gavin dances with everyone, before Barbara is able to pull him back to her every time, soaking his attention with a beer in her hand. They’re in a corner, talking softly, pressed a bit too close for Michael’s liking. He tries to ignore it, focuses on his game with Ray. Time passes. He relaxes, shifting his eyes back to that corner.

And suddenly, they’re gone.

Michael starts. He hadn’t been paying attention.

How long had it been since he actually felt Gavin at his side? How long had it been since he’d heard his voice? How long has it been since he’d seen him or Barbara?

And suddenly he’s terrified.

And he knows where to look, because it’s the only place people know not to go, and he can’t decide if he’s furious or jealous or hurt, all he can register is emotion, and all he can think of is the way her hands had been sliding around Gavin all night, bodies close, fingers entwined.

He opens his bedroom door. Gavin smiles at him from the bed. Barbara looks shocked. Angry. Gavin’s pants were unbuttoned and she had her hand pressed against him, colored fingernails glinting against the lights that had made it through the darkness.

"What the fuck, Barbara, he’s drunk!"

It’s the only thing Michael can think to say, and Gavin laughs softly, throwing his head against the pillows.

Barbara is staring at him, eyes like daggers, and Michael knows she’s barely even tipsy, knows that she had planned this, or at least waited, baiting her time, and he’s all the more furious. She gets up, meets his cold stare.

"So? Ask him if he doesn’t want it."

Michael has a moment to admire her confidence before his blood begins to boil again. If he hadn’t noticed for ten more minutes, fifteen at most, Gavin would…

And there’s that thought again, the thought of her and Gavin curled in bed. Before, he would have applauded Gavin’s conquest of Barbara, but now… the thought of losing that pressure on his side at night, of spending his weekend without hearing Gavin break his fridge or spill his coke, the thought of Gavin losing anything to her, even his virginity, was more than Michael could stand.

Barbara was waiting. “Well? Ask him!”

And before Michael knew what he was doing, he had looked over and met Gavin’s eyes.

"Gavin, do you want to fuck her, or do you want to fuck me?"

There was an unbelievable silence, the dull sounds of chatter outside bearly distinguishable. Gavin was looking at Michael like he never had before, eyes wide with shock as he pushed himself up on the bed.

"Michael… you serious?"

And it hit him, so fast and overwhelming that every part of him was responsive, begging him and pleading not to screw this up. It began from his chest and spread through his body, want and need and ache. How long had he spent using coy touches to Gavin’s arms to suffice him until the next day? How long had been able to push aside the fact that every time his phone rang, he’d pray for it to be only one person? How long had he been pressed up against Gavin at night, waking up hard and more frustrated than the day before?

"Barbara, get out."

She didn’t move, just looked from Michael to Gavin, shock still evident until she finally settled upon Gavin, slight hyseria in her voice.

"Really, Gavin?"

Gavin just looked at her and smiled. “You heard the man.”

And she was gone, leaving nothing but rage in her wake. Michael had a moment to dwell on everything that she’d be able to tell, but the sight of Gavin, his eyes darkened and excited drove it out of his mind, so he turned and locked the door.

"Michael… are you serious?"

Michael didn’t answer. He couldn’t. His eyes were focused on the sight in front of him and he crawled on top of him, meeting Gavin’s lips after what felt like years of preparation. Gavin melted immediately, questions stopped, and he wrapped his hands around Michael and gave in to the kiss. The room was dark, the faint green glow of an Xbox lighting their bodies on the couch as Michael pressed into him.

It felt like dreaming, Michael thinks, feeling the dull sounds of music and people outside as Gavin moved beneath him, trying to take in as much of Michael as he could. Lips were bitten and bruised, and Gavin tasted like alcohol and ravenous need, clutching at the back of Michael’s shirt. 

Michael pulled back only to strip himself and Gavin of their shirts and pants, somewhat awkwardly, and when he climbed back on top of Gavin it hit them, and the moment slowed, a downpour of realization and hopelessness. Of love.

"I… I haven’t done this before," Gavin mummers, and he’s embarrassed, hiding his face in Michael’s neck, kissing it, sucking gently.

Michael’s eyes flutter closed and for once, he’s not nervous, because Gavin is on the same ground he is. He’s never done this either, not with a guy. Gavin’s hands are running down his back, dancing across his skin and Michael has to focus to catch what he’s saying.

"What if I hurt you?"

His voice is so soft, so worried and innocent, that Michael leans down to kiss him, soft and slow.

"You’re not going to hurt me, baby."

He feels Gavin’s fingertips slip, his breath catch, like he’d been waiting to hear that for the longest time, but had never known he was missing it. He breathes Michael’s name and Michael is clutching him tight, pressing their bodies together and kissing Gavin’s neck. He takes a chance and slides to the side, running his hand down Gavin’s body until he finds the seam of Gavin’s boxers and slips his hand underneath it, taking hold of Gavin and running his fingers down the length, slowly, gingerly. 

Gavin inhales sharply beneath him, trying desperately to bring Michael back in for a kiss.

"Michael…"

It seems to last hours. Michael is losing control having Gavin beneath him, finally free to explore every inch of skin he couldn’t before, hearing Gavin whine his name as he learned which spots made him moan, which spots made him jerk, and which spots made him clutch desperately against Michael, fingernails digging into his arms. Touching, holding, lips against heated skin as the room heats up until finally Michael can’t take it anymore, and he pulls Gavin on top of him.

Gavin seems surprised. “I…”

"It’s fine," Michael reassures him, and he’s almost embarrassed by how soft his voice sounds. They’re both naked, a silky sheen of sweat covering them and their skin peppered with red marks of teeth and tongue. And as Michael looks up, watches Gavin run his eyes across Michael’s body in a hungry fascination, he feels his stomach flip and suddenly he wants to feel everything. Anything. Whatever Gavin will give him.

"Gavin…" he whispers hoarsely, and Gavin meets his eyes, one word conveying everything Michael isn’t able to say. And Gavin nods.

"I know."

_I love you, too._

Michael can barely register when Gavin is slicking himself up, the moments are passing in a blur of hazy happiness and disbelief. But when he feels Gavin pressed up against him, there’s a crack in his perfected resolve, and he feels the first twinges of fear.

Gavin is leaning over him, waiting for Michael to give him the okay, but his eyes are mirroring Michael’s and for the first time tonight, he seems distraught.

"I’m going to hurt you."

Michael felt himself relax. Smile. This was still his Gavin, after everything.

"Gavin, hurry up and fuck me before I change our places."

Gavin lets out a breath of air that may have been a laugh, but Michael can see the arousal alight in his eyes, felt his cock harden more against him, and he knew he had said the right thing.

Gavin surprises Michael with a deep kiss, a distraction as he slides himself inside.

Instant pain flares up in Michael, and he’s sure Gavin is splitting him, but he tries to keep his compose. Tries and fails. He pulls away from Gavin and winces, shutting his eyes tight.

"Michael?"

Gavin stopped, but it’s making the pain worse. Michael can feel him, just the tip inside of him, and the stretching is killing him.

"Gavin, don’t stop."

"Michael, I—"

"Gavin, _please_.”

And Gavin listens, slowly sliding himself until he’s deep inside Michael, waiting for permission to move. Michael takes a few breaths, waiting for the throbbing, splitting pain to subside. He can feel Gavin shaking above him, and he know the effort to stay still for Michael’s sake must be tearing him apart just as equally.

After a few minutes Michael feels the pain start to subside, but there’s still a dull ache coursing through him, and he’s dimly wondering how anyone can even enjoy this, when Gavin shifts his weight, and

_Oh._

That’s how.

Gavin noticed Michael’s reaction and hesitated only a moment before pressing himself in again, gently, aiming for that same spot that had made Michael moan so softly. He hits it immediately, and Michael sees white, a pleasure so deep that all twinges of pain are completely overpowered by Gavin’s small, simple thrusts. Gavin is going slow, careful, his arms shaking as he holds Michael’s legs, and Michael could kill him for being so considerate.

"Gavin, go."

And it’s all Gavin needed before he slams hard into Michael, reveling the cry that slips from Michael’s mouth. The room is hot and heavy as Gavin slides in and out, trying to hit Michael’s spot with every thrust, watching Michael clench the sheets underneath him as Gavin’s name slips out of his mouth in an unending stream of soft moans.

Michael uses his legs to pull Gavin closer, urge him deeper, and his motion is rewarded with a small gasp that falls from Gavin’s lips, a faint whisper of encouragement that is jumbled up against Gavin’s inability to form coherent words. His thrusts are novice but delicate, precise in their fumbles as Gavin hits Michael’s bundle of nerves with the perfect pressure each time, continuously clouding Michael’s vision with stars and heat and desire.

Gavin steadies himself and grabs Michael’s hand, wrapping it around Michael’s own aching member. Michael had completely forgotten his own need, content to lie against the bed and let Gavin fuck him until he couldn’t breath, couldn’t think, couldn’t function. And by the way his body was shaking, a deep reaction to how good Gavin was at hitting just what he needed to hit, Michael wasn’t far off.

He felt electricity shoot through him as he began to pump himself in time to Gavin thrusts, and despite usually lasting long in bed, he could feel the heat pooling deep within him, and he knew he was getting close. Gavin’s trusts were becoming more erratic, the pace was off, and Gavin’s body was losing focus, slamming into Michael with nothing but wanton desire.

"Michael," he moaned, and the instant Michael looked up to meet Gavin’s eyes was the instant it became too much for both of them. 

Michael felt a hot surge of lust wash over him as he looked at Gavin, eyes dark as he dug his nails into Michael’s leg, bucking hard against him to get as deep as possible. A few more thrusts was all Michael could last before he was spilling into his hand, Gavin pressing against him in just the right spots, buried so deep inside of him that all he could feel was Gavin as he tightened around him, his orgasm so intense he was momentarily breathless as his world went white.

Gavin cursed as Michael tightened around him and spilled over his hand, his head thrown back as Gavin went as deep as possible. The sight was too much for him, and he released himself into Michael, feeling the hot walls around him throb and grip him tightly as he came.

They were still for a moment, both of them lost to the aftermath of their orgasms. Finally Gavin steadied himself and pulled out slowly, Michael only making a small hiss of displeasure. Whether it was from the pain or Gavin’s absence, he couldn’t tell.

Gavin fell unceremoniously next to Michael, completely spent. But as his world came back into focus, so did his reality of what had happened, and he smiled. Michael took notice and turned to look at him, sweat still glistening on his body.

"What?"

Gavin just smiled at him, hair sticking erratically to his face. “I finally got laid.”

"Yeah you did," Michael snorted, but he couldn’t help but mirror Gavin’s smile. "I promise you I’d help you, didn’t I?"

"If I didn’t know better, I’d think you saw it coming," Gavin teased, his breathing still labored. "After all, you did say I’d coming up to you after it happened and thank you for ‘experience a very memorable night,’ right?"

Gavin was smirking at him, but Michael couldn’t even be bothered to be mad. His body was weak and he couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so satisfied.

"How about you thank me tomorrow night? Just because you needed to lose your virginity doesn’t mean you get to top every time."

Gavin only smiled.

—-

Gavin’s arms are draped lazily over the pillows, his fingers brushing against Michael’s shoulder with each soft breath he took. Michael stayed immobile in the darkness, watching as Gavin’s chest rose and fell, a steady rhythm to match Michael’s steady heartbeat.

Michael had never intended this outcome, really. Never really thought that he would want it, and that Gavin would embrace it. But there were pieces of Gavin that were always hidden from Michael that were suddenly shot into the spotlight. Little emotions that hadn’t made sense.

But he always thought that maybe Gavin was just shy.

His perspective on Gavin had changed, but Michael never really intended to give in to curiosity, to the little pestering bits of desire and radical thinking. He hadn’t really intended to succumb to Gavin.

Then again, he thinks, staring at the figure beside him, it was never a possibility that he could say no.


End file.
